The Boy Who Died
by writelikeademon
Summary: After asking Hermione on a date and being rejected, Harry goes for a walk in the woods- and meets a vampire who makes him one of her kind.
1. Beauty and the Beast

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is J.K. Rowling's stuff. Everything you don't is property of moi. That is all.  
  
* * *  
  
"There is no such thing as good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it." I was a young boy, only eleven years old, when I heard those words. I did not believe them. In my mind, I believed that good dressed in robes of white, and were always noble and true. Evildoers dressed in black and wished to destroy the values good had worked so hard to build. Warriors of good were not tempted by evil, and always saved the day. At only eleven, I was sure that was how the world worked.  
  
Then I died. My perspective on good and evil changed slightly after that.  
  
Evil people kill, I always believed. But I kill on a nightly basis, and I do not consider myself evil. I am a hunter, and I simply do what I do best: hunt.  
  
At first I did not kill for pleasure; I killed to keep myself alive. The power I felt, however, from killing, was too strong. There's something incredibly electrifying about playing God. The life or death of someone is decided only by you.  
  
Usually I pick death. It's a lot more fun.  
  
You probably have many questions. How did I die? How can I be alive after death? Let me tell you the story. It all begins on a train ride to school.  
  
* * *  
  
I had just stepped onto the platform 9 ¾ when I heard someone call my name. "Harry!" I spun around and there stood my friend Ron, running up to be with his luggage cart. "Hey, Harry," he said, grinning. "How was your summer?"  
  
"Don't ask," I replied. The Dursleys had been horrid, as usual. "Yours?"  
  
Ron shrugged. "OK, I guess. Have you seen Hermione?"  
  
I shook my head. "Not yet. She said she was coming back from New York a few days before school started."  
  
The train whistle blew, and Ron and I boarded the Hogwarts Express. We sat in our usual compartment and waited for the train to leave the station.  
  
From the hall rang cries of "Excuse me-pardon me-terribly sorry- excuse me-" Ron and I exchanged a confused look.  
  
Suddenly, the train shifted, and a beautiful girl was thrust in the doorway of our compartment. Her hair was the color of rich chocolate and shoulder-length; her eyes were the same deep brown shade, framed by delicate eyelashes; her lips were full and the color of roses. She was dressed in Hogwarts robes, but I didn't recall seeing her before. Her head turned and she smiled at me.  
  
"Hello, Harry," she greeted me. "Hi, Ron." It took me a moment to realize who it was.  
  
"Hermione?" Ron asked, looking astonished. She smiled and sat down beside me on the train. Our friend looked between us, and appeared to misread our looks of amazement.  
  
"You- you like it, don't you?" she asked nervously. "In New York, I was just looking around in a beauty salon, and well- I thought it would be fun."  
  
I blinked, trying to clear my head enough to answer her. "You look very nice," I told her, and she smiled. It was very strange; apart from the Yule Ball last year, I'd never seen Hermione look like a real girl before.  
  
"Thanks. Ooh, did I tell you?" she inquired, pulling an envelope from her robes. "I'm a Prefect!" She held out the letter and passed it to me to read.  
  
"What else is new?" Ron wondered, rolling his eyes. "You'd die of shock if you didn't become one." Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but not in an angry way. More playful-like.  
  
I looked up from the letter. Was Ron flirting with her? Unusual things happen at Hogwarts, but Ron and Hermione flirting would definitely be one of the more peculiar things. I passed the letter to Ron.  
  
A few hours we arrived at the school. The Sorting and the feast went quickly, probably because I wasn't paying attention. I kept sneaking looks at Hermione. She was so pretty now. But, thinking back, she wasn't exactly a hag before. I just never noticed before.  
  
The feast ended, and Hermione said good-bye to us to show the new Gryffindors to the House. Ron and I got ready to leave.  
  
"So, Hermione," I began, not knowing exactly what to say. Ron nodded.  
  
"I know what you mean," Ron said. "It's bizarre."  
  
We began to walk to our House. "It's like she's a whole new person," I told him. "Maybe-"  
  
"Maybe what?"  
  
I lowered my head, looking at my shoes. I mumbled, "Maybe I could ask her out."  
  
Ron gave me a sly look. "What, Harry? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that."  
  
Glaring at Ron, I said again, "Maybe I could ask her out." I looked up at Ron. "You wouldn't mind, would you?"  
  
"Me? No." He paused. "You should go for it, Harry. Who knows, she might like you back."  
  
* * *  
  
School began the next. It was just like last year, mostly. Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Quidditch practice. What I dreaded most of all was Divination.  
  
It seemed that Professor Trelawney had become even more obsessed with predicting my death over the summer. After working on tiromancy (telling the future by studying the holes in cheese-very boring) for a few weeks, we began working with Tarot cards. We started with the basic reading.  
  
"You take six cards from the deck," she explained in her usual misty tone. "You flip each one over, one by one. The first two cards is the past, the second two the present, and the third two the future. I shall demonstrate." I sighed as I watched her walk over to me and grab my deck. Ron took out a piece of paper. We were keeping score on how many times she'd predict my death; seven times in the first six weeks.  
  
Professor Trelawney took six cards. She flipped over two. "Ah, the Strength Card," she said, holding it up to show the class. "This refers to someone who is a Leo, born during the month of July." She looked at me. "Which you are?"  
  
"Yes," I replied. Wow, she actually got something right. She picked up another card. "The Devil Card," she said dramatically, brandishing the car around. "It means you have caused much trouble. Correct, Mr. Potter?"  
  
"Depends what you mean by trouble," Ron told her shrewdly. Professor Trelawney ignored him as she drew another card.  
  
"The Moon," said the Professor as showed me. "Have you made any romantic decisions lately?"  
  
Someone giggled and I felt everyone's head turn to look at me. It was bizarre that she said that, because she was actually right; yesterday I'd promised Ron I'd finally ask out Hermione, mostly so I would stop bothering him. "I hope you made the right choice," she told me serenely as she drew another card. I suddenly had the urge to snatch the entire deck from her and tear the cards into little pieces.  
  
"Can anyone tell me what this one is called?" Professor Trelawney inquired, displaying the card. Lavender Brown raised her hand.  
  
"The Tower," she told the teacher. "It means a major change in your life that you have no control over."  
  
"Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor," the teacher answered. She drew another card and gasped. I knew what it was before she said anything.  
  
"This card-it is Death!" she cried. Several people gasped. I began to laugh quietly as Ron put another checkmark on our Death Predictor. Professor Trelawney drew one more.  
  
"The Hanged Man," she whispered. Everyone's eyes turned to her, including mine and Ron's. "It is the reversal of self. You shall become the opposite of what you are, do something completely unlike yourself ." The incense rose around her in thick clouds as the candle flames reflected in her glasses. I suddenly felt uncomfortable. For a moment I almost believed her reading was going to come true.  
  
"That was weird," Ron said as we descended from her class to Defense Against the Dark Arts. "How are you the opposite of yourself AFTER death?"  
  
"Maybe I'm a ghost?" I wondered seriously.  
  
"I'm sure Moaning Myrtle would share her toilet with you," Ron said sarcastically. I laughed and felt more reassured; Professor Trelawney was always wrong. Why would she be right now?  
  
We met up with Hermione by the Ancient Runes room. She waved to us, and I felt my cheeks get a little hotter. It's Hermione! I told myself. You know, your best friend?  
  
"Hi," she greeted us. "How was Divination?" She said the word with just a little loathing.  
  
"Pretty good," I answered. "I'm going to die. How about you?"  
  
"Well, we've started a new set of rune patterns from Egypt, which I studied while I was in New York, at one the museums. I got to answer a lot of questions, and I earned Gryffindor twenty points!" Hermione grinned. She looks really cute when she gets excited, I noticed.  
  
Stop! Bad thoughts, Harry!  
  
We continued to lunch when Ron stopped walking. "Damn! I left something in the dorm." He gave me a knowing look. No, Ron, I thought. Don't leave! I can't ask her NOW!  
  
"What?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Nothing important. Uh, you two go on without me. I'll catch up with you later." He began to run down the hall.  
  
"Strange," Hermione murmured, watching him run down the hall.  
  
"Let's keep walking, shall we?" She continued to watch Ron until he turned a corner, then we continued to the Great Hall. Neither of us said anything for a while.  
  
"Er, Hermione," I began, prepared to ask her. She turned to me and I froze. "Never mind."  
  
"No, no," she insisted, her face curious. "Tell me. What were you going to say?"  
  
"I just wanted to know- if I could borrow one of your quills," I said quickly. She looked puzzled, but began to reach into her bag.  
  
"No, that's not what I meant!" I exclaimed. God, why was this so hard? Why couldn't I just say it? Why did she have to look so pretty and have such shiny rose-colored lips?  
  
"Are you feeling all right, Harry?" Hermione inquired. "Do you feel ill?"  
  
"I-I just wanted to know if you'd, er, be my girlfriend." I looked at my feet and waited for her response.  
  
"Harry." I closed my eyes for a moment. The way she said my name hurt; not in a "yes-let's-go-steady" way, but in an "I'm-trying-very-hard- not-to-break-your-heart" way. I looked up into her pained face. "Harry, I'm sorry. I- I just don't feel that way about you. I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you."  
  
"Well, it's too bloody late for that, isn't it?" I snapped. I stormed away from her.  
  
"Harry? Harry!" she called, but I ignored her as I went out onto the grounds. I had lost my appetite.  
  
"Didn't like her that much anyway," I muttered as I walked past the lake. I picked up a stone and tossed it in the lake, watching it sink to the bottom. Lifting my head, I looked over into the woods that bordered Hogwarts from the rest of the world. Despite the fact I knew I'd get in a lot of trouble, I decided to head into the forest for a while, to clear my mind.  
  
The trees of the forest grew together so thickly that besides a few beams of sunlight, it was almost completely black. I walked along, taking solace in the stillness. The only sound was my feet crunching on the fallen leaves of early autumn.  
  
Screw Hermione, I thought. I'm Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Plenty of girls would go out with me.  
  
Suddenly a voice interrupted my thoughts. ~Who dares to enter the dark forest during the daytime?~.  
  
I whirled around. No one had spoken the voice, but in my mind I'd heard it as clear as day. "Hello?" I called. "Hello?"  
  
~Harry Potter~, the voice said again. It was deep and feminine. ~How kind of you to enter our forest. I was beginning to get hungry.~  
  
"Who are you?" I shouted, feeling fearful. I covered it up by shouting louder. "Who are you?"  
  
~I am that feeling of fear snaking up your spine~. Cruel laughter entered my head as I felt coldness slither up my back. ~ My name is Thekla. I can smell your fear, Harry Potter. You smell good.~  
  
The air in front of me rippled, and a woman appeared. She was tall and slender, with midnight hair and eyes. She wore a long dress of red silk and an ebony velvet cloak over it.  
  
"What are you doing in the woods during the day?" Thekla inquired. "Don't you have school?" She smiled, and my head began to ache. "Someone hurt you today," she said. "Poor boy." A small beam of sunlight penetrated through the thicket of trees, reflecting off her two needlelike fangs.  
  
She's a vampire, I realized.  
  
"That's right," she replied. "An actual vampire." It occurred to me that I should run away, very fast. Just as I started to back away, I heard the word ~Freeze~ in my mind. I stopped, and try as I might, I could not move.  
  
"I may be the luckiest vampire in the world," she told me as she walked toward me. "I've always wanted to taste the Boy Who Lived." I closed my eyes. Sweat dripped down my face from fear and the effort to move.  
  
Her fangs became longer than they already were, until they pressed into their lower lip. She immersed them in my neck. I felt a sudden burst of pain, but it dulled quickly. ~Relax, and it won't hurt~, she told me. I unfroze, and she caught my body.  
  
I was drifting, floating in a pure white place. There was no pain or fear. The only sensation I knew was a sense of emptiness, as my body was depleted of its blood. Everything became darker. I'd felt the sensation of dying before, but obviously I'd never gone through with it.  
  
~Do you wish to live?~ Thekla asked me. I desperately wanted to live. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. In my head, I simply thought, Yes.  
  
I surrounded in blackness, no longer floating, but staying still, waiting. Pain filled my neck and my heart beat frantically from fear and loss of blood. A taste entered my mouth. Blood. The thought of drinking blood was disgusting for a moment, but then I tasted how sweet it was. My body tingled, and it left me with a feeling I'd never known; a feeling of unstoppable, unconquerable power.  
  
The sensation didn't last long. My last thought before I fell unconscious was that Professor Trelawney had actually gotten the prediction right. 


	2. El Infierno

I opened my eyes slowly. Black spots dotted my vision. Several times I blinked, and my sight was clear. The room was pitch-black, but I could see clearly. Wherever I was, I did not recognize it. I was lying on a bed. Looking around the room, I saw nothing but a chair in the corner, and a small table beside it.  
  
Closing my eyes, I tried to remember what had happened. I saw images: the face of a beautiful girl; a shadowy forest, devoid of any light; a crimson mouth baring two fangs. The sensation of floating peacefully entered my mind. Yet no memories. I could not even remember who I was.  
  
I began to search for a way out of the bedroom. Gently I got off the bed and stepped onto the floor, ignoring the pain in my stiff muscles. Over on the table sat a candle, and matches. Despite not even knowing my own name, I was happy to learn I remembered how to light a candle. Holding up the candlestick, I searched for a door.  
  
The steady flame reflected off a piece of glass in the corner of my eye. I walked closer to it, and discovered it was a mirror. Looking into it, I studied my reflection. My skin was white-pale, and transparent in the looking glass; my disheveled black hair was a cloud of smoke; my eyes were the darkest shade of green, like cloudy emeralds. A scar decorated my forehead, like a bolt of lightening. With my finger I traced its jagged outline. The face I looked into was my own, but I did not recognize it.  
  
"You're awake," a familiar voice purred, her voice full of pleasure. Startled, I turned around, and found a woman. At once, I remembered the name "Thekla", and that her mouth housed the pair of fangs I remembered.  
  
"Thekla?" I said aloud. The woman nodded. "Why have you brought me here?" She looked amused at my question.  
  
"You don't remember?" she asked. I shook my head. "Do you remember anything?"  
  
"I can't even remember my name." The woman smiled icily and I tried very hard not to look afraid of her.  
  
"Your name is Harry Potter," she replied. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but brought back no memories.  
  
"Harry Potter," I repeated, trying to get used to saying the words. "Where am I?"  
  
"My home." Thekla went to the window and pulled away the black curtains. I stepped over to the window and looked out.  
  
We were high above the ground, looking onto a vast city. All the structures were made of black marble, illuminated in ruby-red light, giving the city an eerie glow. A pearly moon hung in the coal black sky.  
  
"Welcome to El Infierno," Thekla said, waving her hand around. "The vampire city."  
  
"Vampires?" I repeated. The image of fangs in a scarlet mouth entered my mind again. "You are a vampire?"  
  
She laughed. "You are a vampire, too. I turned you into one."  
  
I was puzzled. A wave of dizziness hit me, and dark spots began to appear in my vision again. "I don't understand," I told Thekla angrily, blinking rapidly.  
  
Her expression reminded me of one a mother would wear, although I could not quite remember what a mother was. "I am your sire, Harry. Your bloodmother. I will teach you how to be a vampire." She smiled brightly. "It will all become clear once you feed."  
  
"Feed?" I replied blankly. A memory flooded my aching head; Thekla grinning coldly at me in the dark forest, her teeth lengthening, and then her piercing my throat with them. She had killed me.  
  
Shocked, I looked up at Thekla. She wanted me to do what she did to me. I could not possibly kill a human!  
  
"You'll get over that soon enough," the vampires assured me.  
  
"Over what?"  
  
"Killing humans." Suddenly the room disappeared, and I was on a city street corner. My stomach jumped in fear as I was unexpectedly alone in a crowd of people. A strong hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me towards her. Thekla raised an eyebrow at me, and began to walk down the crowded street. I followed her, feeling out of place in this city of evil.  
  
She stopped just in front of a small café called El Café de la Sangre. She grabbed the door and opened it, motioning for me to go in. My skin crawled as I stepped in. The room was lit with large candles, casting tall shadows on the wall. The café was noisy, filled with vampires. The smell of blood was strong in the room, and I felt giddy as I sniffed the sweet scent. But that sensation didn't last long. My stomach dropped in surprise when I saw that the corner of the room was a cage, not holding animals, but human. Thekla led me to an empty table near the prison cell. A waiter approached us.  
  
"Order what you want, Harry, it's all free," Thekla explained. I was appalled; I could just order a human and drink them dry? It seemed disgusting. The scent of fear in that place was strong, and it made me feel strangely blissful. I was too hungry not to eat.  
  
"Do you want to share something, Harry?" I didn't answer. She sighed. "That one," Thekla told the waiter, pointing to a little boy in the corner of the chamber. The busboy went to the cell he was in and unlocked in, pulling the child out. The boy screamed and cried. Thekla rolled her eyes. "Shh", I heard her whisper to the boy. Then she bit into him, and the child's cries stopped.  
  
I watched in disgust. From the boy's neck, Thekla looked up at me. ~Well?~ she asked. ~Would you like some?~  
  
The sound of her voice surprised me, but I answered back, ~I don't know. It feels wrong.~  
  
Annoyed, Thekla pulled away from the boy, passing me his limp body. "Drink, Harry," she ordered, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. I held him for a second, questioning whether or not I should do this. But in the end, hunger won. My gums tingled pleasantly as my teeth lengthened. I bit into the little boy.  
  
I felt as if I'd been pulled into a scarlet wave, and I was lost in the taste. It was so hot and thick, that I could not imagine why I had been hesitant before. My head cleared, and I felt my victim's life flow into me as his ended.  
  
But I was satisfied by more than the taste. There was the power. This little boy's life was in my hands. I could drink him dry and kill him, or have mercy on his soul. Some part of me urged to let him live. Nevertheless, I thought it would be sort of fun if I killed him. Once he was dry, I dropped him on the floor. I just wanted to laugh over this little boy's corpse.  
  
"Well?" Thekla asked, giving me a knowing smile and handing me a napkin. I wiped the blood of my face, smiling happily.  
  
"Can I order another?" I inquired. She nodded, and I called the waiter over.  
  
* * *  
  
The first few weeks after I was changed were extremely pleasant. Thekla and I feasted away on humans. Occasionally we went to the cafés, but most of the time we went to London or New York. She taught me how to hunt in the mortal clubs, how to use my powers to control the human mind. I would've been content to do that for the rest of my life.  
  
But then I began to remember. All I could remember is the face that appeared in my head when I awoke. Every day, as I slept, I saw her face in my head the entire night. Then more images flowed into my head. Sometimes in my dreams, she was a gawky little girl. Other times, she was beautiful and sophisticated. In my head I heard her cultured accent and the firm note of determination in her voice. At the start, I thought she was a dream. But soon I realized she was a girl from my past. A beautiful girl I slowly became obsessed with.  
  
Even when I was awake, her face filled my mind. I became obsessed with the mystery girl in of my dreams. When I went hunting with Thekla, I would pick out a girl, and in her mind pretend she was The Girl. No one ever tasted how I imagined she would, though. I needed the real thing.  
  
My dreams revealed more about her: her name was Hermione Granger; she was fifteen years old; she was a student at Hogwarts. Now that I knew that, I could find her. The night I awoke from that dream, I vowed to meet her and become her sire. 


	3. Love is Pain

I willed myself into the Great Hall in Hogwarts, concealing myself with my power. It was early in the morning, so it was just beginning to fill with students. Looking around, I saw Hermione was not there. I brought myself to her side.  
  
With fascination, I found myself in her bedroom, where Hermione was getting dressed. She looked just how I pictured her in my dreams: graceful, sophisticated, and elegant. The moment I entered the room, I felt an overwhelming sadness radiating from her. As she pulled on her sweater, she stared into space for a moment. I could have read her mind, see what she was thinking about, but all I could do was watch her.  
  
There was a knock on the door. The girl went to it and opened it. A red-haired boy stepped inside. I squinted at him; he seemed familiar.  
  
"How are you, Hermione?" he asked gently. She shrugged. The boy rested a hand on her shoulder. I felt a twinge of annoyance.  
  
"OK," she answered. "Some days are harder than others." A tear slipped down her cheek. The young man put a hand to her cheek and wiped away the teardrop. I scowled.  
  
"I'm sure he'll turn up soon," he assured her. Confused, I glanced into his mind. ~If she believes Harry's alive, she'll feel better. No use telling her it's hopeless.~  
  
Startled, I stepped away from the two. That was why I remembered her. She had been my friend.  
  
However, I couldn't let that stand in the way. I wanted to kill her, and getting sentimental feelings about her was not going to help.  
  
"Let's go to breakfast," the red-haired boy suggested, and they both left. I tagged along, ready to start my plan.  
  
~Hermione?~ I whispered into her mind. ~Hermione?~ She whirled around, eyes darting every which way.  
  
"What's the matter?" Redboy inquired.  
  
"I thought I heard him," she replied distantly, still searching the common room with her eyes. "Harry-"  
  
~I'm here~, I told her, running my clammy hand on her shoulder. She shuddered. ~Hermione~.  
  
"No one's there, Hermione," the red-haired comforted her. He reached his hand out to her, but she shifted away from his touch. I smiled, pleased, and followed them.  
  
* * *  
  
My girl watched the syrupy yellow liquid drip into her potion slowly, making sure she didn't put in too much. I watched from afar, backing into the shadows so I wouldn't be touched by the sun. My attention turned from Hermione from a moment to the master of this class, a man named Snape. He looked on edge, as if he felt something that shouldn't have been there. I wouldn't have been surprised if he was a vampire himself, judging from his pale skin and the cloak of power I sensed around him.  
  
I threw out my power to Hermione's lavender roots, making them twitch on the table. She noticed the movement, and her eyes widened when they began to spell out the letter H. Then they shifted, spelling A. Her eyes were fixated on the roots as they formed the rest of my name. They suddenly burst into flames.  
  
"Miss Granger?" Professor Snape said abruptly. He began to walk towards her, and I put out the fire with my mind. "What has distracted you from your potion?"  
  
She could only point at the smoldering roots. He looked at them for a moment, and picked on up. Suddenly his head snapped over to where I stood. Snape blinked, and I wondered if he saw me, or was just staring into space.  
  
"These roots seem fine to me, just a little scalded," he said sharply. "Get back to work." Pleased, I noticed Hermione's right hand couldn't stop shaking.  
  
* * *  
  
At lunch, Hermione was pale and wouldn't eat. The boy with the blood- red hair was very concerned with her. "You have to eat," he reminded her. She shook her head and declined, her shoulder twitching slightly where I touched her. Strange; she was so adorable as I drove her insane.  
  
Over at the teacher's table sat two teachers sat Snape. He was in the middle of a discussion with another professor, but his eyes were on My Girl. I frowned; he knew something. His mind was unreadable to me. All I saw was blackness. Both bored and confused, I departed.  
  
* * *  
  
I had fun with My Girl. She was so excitable. When Hermione came back to her dormitory to get ready for bed, and found a dead rabbit on her bed, she screamed and cried. Her emotions made her scent stronger, more stimulating. She smelled like mountain wildflowers.  
  
"Who's doing this?" she asked, looking around her bedroom. Her voice was shaky. "What do you want?"  
  
A smile covered my face. ~You~, I said into her mind. ~I want you, Hermione.~  
  
"Why?" she inquired as she began to breathe faster.  
  
"You're so beautiful," I spoke aloud. Hermione began to back into the door. "I just wanted to show you how much I care."  
  
"Leave me alone," she declared. "Just leave me alone!" She quickly turned around and left the room, slamming the door. I sighed to myself: why didn't she like this?  
  
"Most humans don't like being tortured," someone answered. A form materialized in the room: Snape, the potions master.  
  
"I knew you could see me," I said angrily, cursing myself. "How?"  
  
He ignored my question. "What is your fascination with Miss Granger?"  
  
"She's beautiful," I answered before I could stop myself.  
  
"You wish to make her one of our kind?"  
  
"Yes-our?" Abruptly I stopped, realizing the man's words. "You are-"  
  
"I am," replied Snape coldly, as if he didn't wish to talk about it.  
  
"How can you stand being around humans?" All day I'd been hanging around this mortal school, trying to control my hunger. This vampire lived with them and was around them with every day!  
  
"Self-control. It's difficult at first, but becomes easier." His face became graver than before, if possible. "If you leave now, I won't tell the Headmaster you've been on the grounds."  
  
I frowned. "And if I don't?" I inquired lightly.  
  
"I will personally stand guard in front of Miss Granger's room with a wooden stake." He clearly meant that. "Good day, Mr. Potter." He disappeared.  
  
For a moment I thought about leaving. But just for a moment. I brought myself back to Thekla's mansion for a while. Tonight I would return, and kill the girl.  
  
* * *  
  
Hermione came back to her dormitory around ten o'clock. She slipped into a lacy white nightgown and got under the bed sheets. The girl picked up a book and began to read.  
  
Immediately I stopped cloaking myself. "Hermione," I called aloud from the corner of the bedroom. Her head snapped up from her text. She gasped when I let myself become visible in the corner of the room.  
  
"Harry!" she gasped. She was so afraid, the fear rolled off her like waves. "What- how- you're alive."  
  
"Actually, I'm not," I replied airily. I smiled widely, flashing my fangs. Hermione's mouth opened as if she was going to scream, but she didn't.  
  
"You're a vampire!" she said instead. She got out of bed and ran to the door. Before she could touch it, I whispered ~Freeze~ into her mind. Hermione stopped moving. Silently I walked towards her. The girl whimpered.  
  
"Don't be afraid, Hermione," I said smoothly, stroking her warm cheek. She looked revolted. My hand dropped to her neck. With my first two fingers I pressed into her throat where I planned to make holes. "Soon, there will be no more pain."  
  
"Why are you doing this?" she began to cry. "Why do you hate me?"  
  
"Don't say that, love," I told her, surprised. "I could never hate you. I love you." Playfully I combed her rich mahogany hair with my fingers. "I know you love me, Hermione. You have to." I paused and turned to face her, letting our eyes meet her. "Tell me you love me, Hermione."  
  
"Will you hurt me?" she inquired, sounding like a small child.  
  
"We'll see," I replied breezily, still playing with her hair. "Tell me, Hermione."  
  
She swallowed hard. "I love you, Harry." The way she said it was so- flat. Lifeless. Like I could make her within moments.  
  
"Come now, Hermione. I know you can do better than that." Firmly I gripped a lock of brown hair and pulled it. She winced. I repeated, "Tell me that you love me."  
  
"I love you, Harry," she whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks. I smiled. Slowly I pressed my lips onto hers. They were warm and full of life, blood pulsing through them. My mental hold on Hermione's body decreased, and she struggled when our lips met. With my mind I forced her to kiss me back. At first she resisted the mind control, but then she gave in. All I could think about was Hermione, her curvy body, her floral scent, and the thick crimson plasma flowing through her veins.  
  
I lifted my mouth away. Her lips danced across my face as I licked her neck. Then, without hesitation, I bit into her. She winced at the sudden burst of pain. ~Relax, Hermione~ I ordered her. Her blood was like strawberry syrup, sliding down my throat easily, sating my thirst.  
  
The girl wouldn't relax. She fought me, and tried to pull away from me. Hermione gasped, sensing how little air she had and how little blood she had left. Finally she collapsed to the floor, nearly dead.  
  
"No, Hermione," I whispered to myself. I knelt beside her. "You're coming with me." On her desk sat a letter opener. It flew through the air into my hand. I slit my wrist with it, my blood seeping out of it.  
  
~Hermione?~ I asked her, forcing her to awake. She stirred. ~Do you want to live?~  
  
~Yes~ she pleaded. ~Please let me live.~  
  
I pressed my wrist to her mouth. She drank ferociously, taking in the sweet blood. ~Am I going to be a vampire?~ she asked suddenly. Surprised she was still conscious, I hastily responded ~Yes~.  
  
~I'm sorry, Harry, about before. I'm so sorry.~ Her lips went slack. She was dead. I wrapped up her still warm body in my arms and brought her back to El Infierno, wondering what she was apologizing for. 


	4. Little Red Pretty

Her skin was pale, the innocent schoolgirl flush gone. Her rich brown hair curled around her cheeks like a black halo. Placing her unmoving body, I watched the blood red sun rise over El Infierno as she slept.  
  
I wondered, would she awake like me? With no memory of the girl she was? If that was so, then who would she become? Would she still be the girl I saw in my dreams? That led to other questions. Who had I been before I was turned by Thekla?  
  
"Thekla!" I called. Above my head I heard footsteps. The vampire appeared before me.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Who was I?" She blinked, confused, and I rephrased my question. "Before you turned me, what kind of person was I?"  
  
Thekla paused, obviously choosing her words carefully. "I don't know, Harry. I only met you once, the time I changed you."  
  
"Why did you change me, then?" Thekla didn't answer. She knew something, something important that she was not telling me, and it was making me angry. "Why did you sire me?"  
  
"I must leave," she said suddenly, and disappeared. I threw a thread of power out, trying to latch onto her power and follow her, but Thekla was gone. Cursing her, I returned my gaze to the window, until I heard a faint moan. Hermione opened her eyes and blinked.  
  
"Hermione?" I said quietly, seeing if she would respond to the name. She didn't. Instead, she tried to sit up. Quickly I went to her, supporting her back with one hand and propping up her head with the other.  
  
"Where am I?" she asked slowly. She turned to me and blinked. "Who are you?"  
  
"You don't remember anything." She nodded. "I'm Harry, and you're Hermione. My Girl," I added softly.  
  
She sat there, thinking. "Hermione," she repeated in a hushed tone, the name rolling off her tongue. "And you're Harry." She paused. "What- what happened?"  
  
"I made you into a vampire." She frowned.  
  
"Vampire?"  
  
Despite her confusion, all I could do was smile broadly. Soon enough, she'd drink, and the chaos in her mind would end. "Don't fret, Princess. Let me show you your new world." Instead of taking her to a blood bar, I brought her to the human world, outside a small pub called The Leaky Cauldron. We appeared in the back of the tavern quietly.  
  
"Where are we?" she asked softly, surprised.  
  
"A pub," I answered. My eyes drifted to the bar, where an older man was getting up and paying for his drink. I smiled as he walked off, leaving his hat on the bar.  
  
"Hungry, Princess?"  
  
She looked surprised. "Well-"  
  
I grabbed her hand, went over to the bar and snatched the pointed hat. We left the ale house unnoticed. Silently we followed the old wizard down the street.  
  
"Sir!" I called out, stopping in the middle of the empty street. No one was around; perfect for a meal. The old man turned around, looking at me oddly. "You forgot your hat inside."  
  
A smile broke out on his face. "Why, thank you, young man," he said cheerily. "It's nice to know some young people-"  
  
~Sleep~, I ordered. His eyes closed abruptly, and I caught his falling body. Hermione looked frightened. "What happened?"  
  
"He fell asleep," I responded casually. Hermione backed away from me when she saw my fangs reflect against the street lamps.  
  
"What are you doing?" she whispered, sounding frightened.  
  
"Eating." I pressed my fangs into him and drank, suddenly aware of everything around me, losing myself in the taste. His blood was watered- down, mixed with the alcohol he'd just had. "Have some, Princess," I invited her as I forced myself to pull away from the man's neck.  
  
She pressed her hand to her head and closed her eyes. "No," she moaned, the effects of not feeding beginning to ail her. "It's wrong. He says it's wrong."  
  
I frowned. "Who says that?"  
  
"He does," she said, motioning to her forehead. "The dark man in my head. He wants me to go home." Oh, right, I thought. I drove her insane. Knew that was gonna back and haunt me.  
  
"Don't listen to him, Princess," I commanded her, passing the body to her. "You're home now, and you're never going to leave." Instinctively her teeth became sharper and she bit into him without another thought. I looked on, feeling quite cheery.  
  
"It's so good," she sighed, running her tongue along her mouth. "You're right, Harry. It's good. The Voice is gone." She dropped the body.  
  
I looped an arm around her waist, pulling her towards me, licking the excess blood off her face. Letting go of her, I bent down and lifted the dead man's hand. From his finger I pulled a golden ring, studded with a ruby. Hermione giggled as I slipped it on her hand. We disappeared, onto another pub. We'd only just begun dinner.  
  
* * *  
  
I was correct in my prediction, that Hermione wouldn't be the girl I knew. In fact, she was better; merciless and sadistic, seductive and psychotic. Everything I could ever want in a girl. My Wicked Princess.  
  
We never went to blood bars; we were hunters. Wizard or Muggle, it didn't matter. All were defenseless against us. My Girl and I couldn't be beat. We liked a good tussle every now and then.  
  
Hermione especially liked to change people. Not random humans; ones she saw a "darkness" or "wickedness" in them. Few met her standards. One girl in particular stands out in my mind.  
  
* * *  
  
We were in the city of Hogsmeade, just a few weeks after I changed Hermione. The sun was just beginning to set. I surveyed the almost barren streets with dark eyes, looking for a kill. My Girl moaned softly; she couldn't go for more than a few hours without eating. She began to play with the many rings on her fingers, the souvenirs of our kills.  
  
"Where have all the humans gone?" she inquired softly.  
  
"It's cold now, and getting darker. Humans don't like the dark." I turned my head swiftly at the sound of footsteps. A girl was coming down the street, dressed in a Hogwarts uniform. "Look, lovely. Here comes one now."  
  
She smiled and we both disappeared, reforming in the alley off the street. The girl continued to walk down the street. ~Over here~, I whispered into her mind.  
  
The girl stiffened and peered around. "Hello?" she called. She walked closer to the alley entrance. "Hello?"  
  
~Come closer~, Hermione ordered her. Our prey walked into the alley, her expression curious. She cried out when I appeared behind her, wrapping my hand across her mouth. She struggled against my grip but could not break free. The girl tried to scream, but her cries were muffled.  
  
Hermione stepped out of the shadows, studying the girl. "Skinny little thing, isn't she?" she commented. The girl fought more wildly now upon looking at Hermione. "Pretty hair, though." She finger-combed our prey's rich red hair. "Red and rich as blood. Full of darkness she is." She paused, putting her fingertips on her head. "Do you think I should dye my hair red, Harry?" She brought her hands to her head. Her dark brown hair suddenly turned ruby-red. "Just like- what's your name?" My Girl closed her eyes, searching the girl's mind for her name. "Just like Ginny here."  
  
"Mmm-hmm," I muttered. Hermione had a tendency to forget what was going on and get lost in her little fantasy world. "Can we eat now, please?"  
  
"Oh, yes," she agreed, smiling, baring pearly fangs. Ginny fought my hold as both of us pierced her neck. She tried her best to cry out. I could've controlled her mind if I wanted to, but I wasn't in the mood. The sounds of her anguished moans filled my ears, giving me that sense of power I longed for.  
  
My Girl removed her fangs. She stroked the almost dead girl's hair. "I bit into her, and saw blackness," Hermione said, pulling a knife from her cloak pocket. "She has a darkness in her. Something evil." She slit her wrist and put it to Ginny's mouth, who latched onto the wound, drinking like a leech. I looked on, oddly aroused by the sight of the little girl drinking from Hermione.  
  
Finally, Ginny collapsed to the ground, eyes closed, her chest still. Hermione ran her hand over her bleeding wrist; the wound closed, leaving fresh skin. "I'm tired, Harry." She wrapped her arms around my neck, rubbing her cheek against mine. "Home?"  
  
We went home.  
  
* * *  
  
I can imagine your reactions. You killed Ginny! Poor, defenseless Ginny! Oh the horror! Well, if you're upset now, I suggest you do not read on- we've only just begun our tale, and the eternal night grows even darker. 


	5. The First

A/N: I'm sorry this wasn't up sooner. I had a "situation" yesterday and couldn't post it. But at least it gave me more time to work on it!  
  
* * *  
  
Ginny awoke and joined Hermione, and me in a little-sister way. She was our faithful follower, doing as we told her to do. The three of us quickly became well known in the vampire community.  
  
Vampires tend to look down on the newest members of their kind. Hermione, Ginny and I hadn't even been vampires for a year. We were treated like second-class citizens in El Infierno, and just about every other city in the world. Despite the fact we were strong and powerful, we had little authority. The other vampires hated us with a passion, not only because we were so young, but also because they knew we could kill them so easily. It sounds vain, but it's true.  
  
So we decided to leave El Infierno, and move to London. It has a large vampire community, and the closeness to the wizards strengthened our powers. Plus, it's packed with humans, aimlessly running around like a herd of cattle; a vampire's delight.  
  
Unfortunately, you can never leave behind El Infierno. The vampire world is governed by few rules, and there is no vampire "king"; there is, however, The First. He is the first vampire, and is considered the strongest one in the world. When I broke one of his "rules", he summoned me- and I learned more about my origins than I ever wanted to know.  
  
* * *  
  
Ginny's coal black eyes traveled across the pub, where a young wizard sat with his girlfriend. The boy turned to her and met her gaze, smiling. She returned the smile, her eyes dropping to his neck.  
  
~May I? ~ she asked silently, watching the boy like a fox would watch a rabbit.  
  
~Enjoy yourself, Ginny, ~ I answered. The boy stood at the same moment Ginny did, and they both headed outside.  
  
"Little Red Pretty's going away," Hermione moaned, leaning her head against my shoulder. "Goodbye, Ginny."  
  
"She'll be back," I promised her, not liking to see My Girl upset. "Don't fret, Princess. We'll go get a snack until she returns." The two of us got up and left the pub, heading into Diagon Alley. It was about ten o'clock, and all the shops were beginning to close. Shoppers poured from the marketplace.  
  
I set my sights on one drifting dreamily from the Astrologer's Market. She was old and bony, her black hair tinged with gray. The woman didn't seem to have any idea what was going on around her. A quick and easy kill.  
  
~This way, ~ I ordered the old bat, urging her to follow the two of us down a dimly lit street. She followed mindlessly, until we stopped just beneath a street lamp. Snapping my fingers, the flame went out. The street was black.  
  
The woman blinked, suddenly aware of what was going on again. "What-" Her gaze fell upon Hermione and I, and she gasped.  
  
"Potter," she breathed. "I- I saw this. I saw you becoming a vampire, when I did your Tarot reading."  
  
I frowned, not understanding. "Who are you?" I asked.  
  
"The Hanged Man, the reversal of self," the stranger continued. "I showed you that card, do you remember?"  
  
An image flashed into my head, of this woman presenting me a Tarot card of the Hanged Man. I turned to her. She watched me delightedly. "You remember it, Harry, I know you do," she said quickly, rushing her words together.  
  
"She talks too much," Princess sighed. The woman's eyes traveled to Hermione, studying her ebony hair, lacy dress, and crimson lips. She looked over our victim. "Bet she's a screamer." Hermione smiled, flashing pearly fangs.  
  
"No," she said, breathing heavily as she backed into a wall. "No, stop! This is what leads you to the end, Harry! I die, then the First. You must stop this before-"  
  
~Sleep~, commanded Hermione, getting bored. Instantly the old woman slept, and didn't cry out as My Girl and I drank her dry.  
  
"Quite a talkative one," Hermione commented. "I like it better when they scream. She should've screamed, then I could've broken her into itty pieces."  
  
"You can break the next one, Princess," I told her, and we disappeared, leaving the seer's body behind.  
  
* * *  
  
We returned to our flat in London just as the sun rose, where Ginny sat waiting. "Where were you? I was back hours ago."  
  
"Out for a morsel. Give Mummy a kiss," My Girl greeted her childe, who did as she was told and gave Hermione a peck on the cheek.  
  
"A messenger came here before, Harry," Ginny added. "Looking for you."  
  
"Me?" I replied, sitting down in one of the chairs. "Why me?"  
  
She shrugged. "I don't know. Something about a kill you made. Someone's upset. I didn't really listen." I scowled at her, but she ignored me.  
  
Hermione looped her arms around my neck. "No one will hurt my Harry," she whimpered. She smiled. "No one but me, that is." Lifting her hand to my face, she took one of her fingernails and cut my cheek, quickly licking away the blood that trickled from the cut. It healed instantly.  
  
"Let's go to bed, Princess," I said lazily, wandering into the bedroom. "I'm quite tired."  
  
"Think you're tired now?" teased Hermione, following me in the room, shutting the door behind us.  
  
* * *  
  
After we'd had a nice little romp, we drifted off to sleep. However, I was quickly awakened when I felt a slap against my cheek. "Stop now, Hermione, it's late," I muttered.  
  
"The First summons you," an unfamiliar voice commanded. I opened my eyes and looked up. In front of me stood a vampire, dressed in black silk robes. Furious, I sat up, pulling on my shirt.  
  
"Ever heard of knocking? Lovely little invention," I said, miffed this vampire just entered my flat. I turned to Hermione, who lay next to me, still asleep. Quickly I pulled up her bed sheets to cover her chest up. "Who the hell is the First?"  
  
The vampire, as prune dry and humorless as he seemed to be, cracked a smile. "I assumed you, Harry Potter, would know of the First," he said. "He wishes to see you now."  
  
"What did I do?"  
  
"The First will explain everything in time, Harry Potter." He continued to stand there, firm and immobile.  
  
I sighed. "Princess," I said, nudging her awake. Hermione groaned softly. "Harry's got to go do some business. Stay and play with Ginny?"  
  
"Mmm," Hermione agreed. "Kiss?"  
  
I kissed her cheek and stood, pulling my pants on. "All right, then," I told the two vampires. "Bring me to him."  
  
* * *  
  
Within a moment I was standing inside a very dark chamber beside the two vampires, who instantly disappeared. It was lit only by the fire that crackled in the hearth in the corner of the room. Along the walls were bookshelves, crammed with tomes and texts of every kind. An empty chair sat beside the fireplace. Instantly I remembered this place; this was the mansion, the tallest building in El Infierno.  
  
A figure suddenly appeared in the chair by the fire. "Harry Potter," a voice croaked, a male voice that sounded as if it hadn't been used in a while. "Welcome."  
  
"What do you want with me?" I demanded to know.  
  
"In time," the man rasped. "Come before me." Cautiously I walked over to the fireplace. Beside the fireside sat a very old vampire. He looked maybe eighteen, although he must've been several thousand years old. He had pure white skin, with a reddish stain around his mouth; his eyes were completely black, devoid of light or feeling. The First carried an abundance of power around him, like a wet wool blanket that made me feel small and weak. His coal eyes studied me carefully.  
  
"Do you know who I am?" he asked me finally.  
  
"The First vampire."  
  
"Correct." He paused. "Do you know why I have called you here?"  
  
"No, sir, that would be why I asked you." He bared a small smile at my insolence. A table appeared beside the chair, and with it four newspapers. I picked each one up. The headlines read the same: "Harry Potter Missing"; "Hogwarts Student Reported Missing"; "Third Student Disappearance in Six Months"; and the most recent, "Hogwarts Teacher Found Dead, Throat Rupture".  
  
"The reason why vampires are not as easily defeated as other creatures, like ogres and giants," the First explained, "is because we can blend in with human society. We walk as they do, speak as they do, look as they do. Our kind cannot afford publicity."  
  
"That's why you brought me here? Because I got us noticed?" I laughed. "Don't you get it? We're stronger than any human or wizard. They don't stand a chance against us."  
  
"That is not all," the First said quietly. "You have asked in the past about your changing."  
  
I felt a rush of blistering cold as he spoke. "How do you-"  
  
"Thekla is one my favorites," he cut me off swiftly. "She said you wished to know why you were sired."  
  
"I did," I admitted uneasily. "Once."  
  
The First nodded easily. "These books are filled with prophecies," he told me, waving his hand about. "All that concern our kind. What will become of us in the coming years; who will lead us to victory; who will lead us to destruction." He eyed me sharply. "You, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, were going to lead us to destruction. So I ordered Thekla to make sure that didn't happen."  
  
"I've always wanted to taste the Boy Who Lived." I remember hearing Thekla say that, right before she killed me. That's why she wouldn't tell me where she met me. I was going to destroy her kind, so she made me one of her kin.  
  
"You are a strong young vampire, Harry Potter," the First said, bringing me out of my thoughts. He sensed my tension and smiled. "I confess, you are one of my favorite fledglings, so I am lenient- this time. But do not kill so openly again, or I will be forced to discipline you. Understand?"  
  
"I understand," I answered softly. He waved his hand, and I was back in my bedroom. Hermione was awake now, brushing Ginny's rich red curls. She turned to face, beaming at me.  
  
"You're home," she cooed, her hairbrush still twisting through Ginny's hair. "Did you have fun business?"  
  
"Not particularly," I admitted, sitting down at the bed. "It was boring." That wasn't the correct word, though. Not "boring"; "enlightening", perhaps.  
  
Hermione frowned sympathetically, and let go of Ginny's hair. She took my head and placed in on her shoulder. "Poor Harry," she whimpered. A smile broke out onto her face. "I know just the thing to cheer my boy up."  
  
* * *  
  
The sickening crack of a neck snapping filled my ears. I dropped the little boy on the ground, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. From behind me came Hermione, looping her arms around my neck. "See?" My Girl said endearingly, her arms looping around my neck. "I know what makes my Harry a happy boy."  
  
"You know just the thing, Princess," I told her, kissing her cheek. Someone sighed loudly. I turned to Ginny, who stood sulking in the back of the alley. "What?"  
  
"Nothing," she said in a tone that meant otherwise.  
  
"Tell Mummy what's the matter," Hermione said tenderly.  
  
Ginny frowned, extending her lower lip sadly. "I want a playmate like Harry," she complained.  
  
"Well, then, let's find you one," Hermione told her. Looking down at the corpse of the little boy, I made it explode into flames, leaving behind a pile of ash.  
  
"I want a bad boy," Ginny declared as the three of us strolled through Hogsmeade. "Some dangerous."  
  
"But all the students are in the castle today, Ginny," I informed Ginny. "They're probably afraid of disappearing like you."  
  
She frowned. "Like me?" Unlike me, Hermione and Ginny never questioned their siring. The girl shook her head, apparently shaking away her thoughts as well. "Well, could we go up to the school, then? Look for a nice boy." Both women looked at me, waiting for an answer. I bit my lip; as long as we didn't actually go in the school, we'd be fine.  
  
"Alright with me," I agreed, and the three of us disappeared from Hogsmeade. We reappeared in the forest just on the edges of the school. Beyond the castle was a Quidditch stadium, where one of the school teams was practicing.  
  
Ginny watched each Quidditch player fly through the air, studying each one. Finally, her dark eyes lit up when she spotted one she liked. "That one," she whispered, pointing to one boy who flew above the other six team members.  
  
Hermione smiled. "He's a naughty one," she told us. Even I felt the dark aura around him, like a dark rain cloud. The athletes dropped to the ground, and began to head up to the castle. Ginny, her eyes still on her favorite, called him to us. A worried feeling filled my stomach, gnawing away at me that we might get in trouble.  
  
The boy suddenly turned, looking towards the forest where we stood. He began to walk toward us cautiously, as if there was something back here he had to see. "Oh, goody," Ginny said quietly as her boy approached us.  
  
I squinted at him. He looked familiar; tall, slim, pale, with blonde hair and gray eyes like chunks of ice. Removing our power, we allowed him to see us.  
  
The boy backed away quickly. "Potter?" he began warily. I rolled my eyes. Seems like every bloody person we meet lately recognizes me! "Granger? Weasley?" His uneasiness lessened. "You chits don't look half- bad," he said with satisfaction. "What're you doing here?"  
  
"I'm on the pull," Ginny explained with a smile, apparently undressing the boy with her eyes. She searched his mind for his name. "And I pick you, Draco." Her incisors lengthened to glimmering needles. The boy backed away.  
  
"The lad's scared," My Girl told Ginny. "He wants to keep his blood in his veins. Tell him it'll go to better use in your body."  
  
Draco fixed Hermione with a perplexed stare. "Bit off your head, aren't you Hermione?" My Wicked Princess frowned, walking to me and pulling me close to her. The boy still tried to get away, but Ginny stopped him with her mind. I watched Ginny hover over him as he stood there, weak and afraid.  
  
I suddenly remembered when I turned Hermione. She'd been weak and afraid, a stupid little human girl. I'd frozen her with my mind, just like Ginny did to Draco. And just as Thekla did to me, in this very forest.  
  
Closing my eyes, I pushed all my thoughts away. I wasn't human, and I didn't care who I used to be. I know who I am now, I told myself, and nothing else matters. There were only two things I cared about: blood and Hermione.  
  
Draco cried out in pain as Ginny bit him to him. Hermione giggled and I stroked her soft brown hair. There were only two things I cared about: blood and Hermione. No one, not even the First, would get in the way of what I wanted. Right now, I wanted blood. Not just any normal, random back alley killing; a massacre. 


	6. Massacre

A/N: Sorry about the wait. But the more I work on it, the better it is, right? So, I hope you are not disappointed.  
  
* * *  
  
I admit the massacre was not all my idea. My Girl contributed, of course. It was early in the morning, the day before Ginny turned her new bloke, Draco. I was just beginning to go to sleep when Hermione awoke me.  
  
"Harry?" her gentle voice whispered into my ear. I felt her run her cold hand through my hair.  
  
"Mmm," I answered, barely awake.  
  
"You'd do anything for Princess, wouldn't you?" Two icy hands stroked my back. I flipped over lazily and turned to her, playing with the loose strand of hair that graced her cheek.  
  
"Anything."  
  
"Bring me the moon and the stars?"  
  
"As many stars as I can carry."  
  
She beamed at me. "You know what I want?" she whispered.  
  
"What, Princess?" I answered quietly.  
  
"Blood," she said with a giggle, as if it were a big secret she wasn't allowed to share. "Lots of blood. Not just a hunt. A party, with a great blood-flavored cake. Bring it to me?"  
  
I promised her I would, although I wasn't quite sure how. And a day later, I figured out how to give her what she wanted.  
  
We returned home from Hogwarts that night, Ginny carrying Draco's limp body. Hermione and I made a beeline for our bedroom.  
  
"I know how to make My Girl happy," I told her, pulling her close to me as we slipped into bed.  
  
"How?" she wished to know.  
  
"A party," I explained quietly. "A killing party for My Girl. We'll kill everyone one we meet, until my Princess is full."  
  
"Can we invite Ginny and her boy?"  
  
"Anything you want, you can bring." Vampires are evil by nature; they have no memory of their past lives, no conscience. They kill without remorse. Technically we shouldn't be able to love, but nothing gave me greater joy (besides killing) than making My Girl happy.  
  
Hermione beamed at me. "That's right," she agreed with me, pressing her mouth to mine, my hands touching her face. "Anything I want, I can-ooh! Harry! That feels-mmm."  
  
* * *  
  
The next day we explained everything to Ginny, who loved the plan. Draco, however, was more difficult to convince. He was a great git, loud and violent. He didn't appreciate the joy of the torture and the abuse; he just wanted to eat and run. Unfortunately, Ginny had grown attached to him, and wouldn't let him go. And because Hermione wouldn't go without her childe tagging along, I put up with the little twit. A mistake I'd learn later.  
  
Hermione decided to invite other vampires we'd met to our hunting party. They weren't as bold as My Girl and I. They feared the First, and what he would do if he found out what was going on. I convinced them I would handle the First. Then they agreed.  
  
One June night, when the air was warm and the sun was just beginning to set, we set out for our party. "Where do you want to go, Princess?" I asked impatiently. I hadn't fed for two days, and it was a struggle to wait for Hermione to choose a place. Fifteen other vampires waited in our bedroom as she decided, and they had even less patience than I did.  
  
"The school," she said slowly. "The one where Little Red Pretty made her dragon." I frowned; Hogwarts was filled with powerful teachers and wizard students. It would be heavily warded after four of its students went missing in the same year.  
  
"Love-" I began, but Hermione looked up at me, like a lost little kitten. She whimpered softly. Ginny went to her, wrapping her arms around My Girl, shooting murderous glares at me.  
  
"Good going," Draco murmured behind me. I turned around, and found the twat smirking at me. I growled deep in my throat. The git's sneer faded and I turned back to Hermione. A single teardrop ran down her face, then another; from her eyes trickled bloody tears. The sight of her crying twisted my chest into a knot.  
  
"Princess, I'm sorry," I told her, bending down on my knees. "I'm a bad, bad man. We can go to the school. Anything for you." Hermione's frown vanished. She wiped away her tears and put her finger to my mouth. With a smile I licked the blood away. "Forgive me?"  
  
"Harry's a good boy" was all she said, but I knew she forgave me. She looked up to our vampire guests. "Shall we begin the party?" She vanished from the room and I followed, along with the rest of the guests.  
  
We reformed outside of Hogwarts, staring at the forbidding-looking citadel. I could smell the blood so strongly from the outside. The night air seemed cold for May; my head began to ache. I began to feel weak.  
  
~This place seems awfully familiar~, Draco commented to the rest of us. I rolled my eyes; well, of course it seems familiar, you blithering idiot, you died here!  
  
~This is where I found you~, Ginny explained, grabbing Draco's arm. ~This is where I found you and made you mine~.  
  
Hermione smiled at their flirtation, and turned her attention back to the castle. "Time to dance, Harry," she told me as we teleported into the castle. We both reformed in a girls' dormitory. Five girlies lay in their beds, asleep. My Girl stared at them like they were presents on Christmas morning.  
  
~I don't know which one to open first, ~ Hermione confessed. She pressed her hands to her mouth to suppress her giddy laughter.  
  
~Anyone you want, Princess. ~ A second later I was at a girl's bed, drinking her dry. My headache was gone; I was warmer; my powers were at full strength.  
  
When I killed the girl, I laid her back down on her pillow, covering her neck up with her blankets. Her roommates would get quite the nasty shock in the morning. Still hungry, I moved onto the next dormitory, Hermione right beside me.  
  
Within fifteen minutes, the school was filled with the sounds of terrified screeches. Vampires have the power to cloak ourselves in silence, but we generally prefer a good throaty scream from our kills. I know I do.  
  
I headed to a boys' dormitory, I'm not sure which house. All four boys were asleep. I frowned; there were five beds and four boys. Where was the other? Had he been killed already? A strange feeling nagged at me, but I ignored it.  
  
Looking at all the boys, my eyes landed on one in particular; Redboy, Hermione's old friend. The one who'd been trying to keep her sane as I drove her insane. Didn't do too good of a job, did he now?  
  
"Is he a friend?" a voice asked quietly. Hermione's deep brown eyes studied the boy; they were filled with a sadness I'd never seen. She looked at him with such tenderness- tenderness usually reserved for me. "His hair's on fire, like Little Red Pretty's." My Girl reached out her hand to touch his face.  
  
Quickly I snared her hand in mine. "I've never seen him before," I answered sharply, although I knew we'd been friends when I was alive. Hermione and Redboy and I- what could that have been like?  
  
You'll never know, so stop asking yourself, I ordered. "Come, Princess," I said. "No need to waste time here. Let's get you a lil' treat."  
  
We left the dormitory behind and entered the halls of Hogwarts. Teachers were up, throwing a fit. Grabbing their wands and darting down the halls in their nightcaps after some vampire. They paid no attention to my girl and I. A group of little girlies ran through the corridors, screaming as one clutched her neck and cried. Hermione rested her head on my shoulder.  
  
"Best party ever, Harry," she purred happily. "I love the music."  
  
"The-oh." I was about to ask what music, but realized she meant all the screaming. "Anything for you, Hermione." She pressed her lips to my cheek.  
  
"Harry," a sharp voice said, one that cut into my ears. I closed my eyes. Ooh, I knew that voice. Both of us turned around.  
  
"I know you," Hermione said slowly, studying the new man. "You're the voice in my head." I looked between her and Snape, confused. " 'Don't go, Hermione. Come home to Hogwarts. Don't drink from the man.'" She smiled. "You didn't want me to play games with Harry. Wanted to keep my Prince and me apart. You're a bad man."  
  
A memory flashed through my head; the night Hermione awoke. She didn't want to feed, and I asked her why. "The dark man in my head," she answered. "He wants me to go home." I glared at the other vampire; he wanted to take her away from me!  
  
Snape said nothing, turning his eyes to me. "Princess," I said, turning to Hermione, "Harry's got a business matter. Run along with Ginny and Draco." She nodded and disappeared.  
  
The older vampire watched me quietly. "You came back that night."  
  
"Now, I've been meaning to ask you 'bout that," I began, ignoring the chaos that was ringing in my ears. "What the hell happened to '"I will personally stand guard in front of Miss Granger's room with an axe and stake'?"  
  
Snape's emotionless face twisted itself into a nasty grimace. "The First forbid me to."  
  
"There's that damn First again," I sighed. "Why is everyone so afraid of him?"  
  
"Why, Harry?" Snape asked me, ignoring my comments about the First. I was surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "You tortured and changed her!"  
  
"Well, I was going to send her flowers, but I ate the florist," I explained, smirking. My eyes dropped to his hand, where he gripped a stake. "Going to kill me with that? Or will it piss off the First?" Squinting at the wood, it suddenly lit on the fire. The professor dropped it collapsed, and it became a pile of ashes on the ground. "Oops."  
  
"How ironic," began Snape, his voice strained with composure, "that the boy who faced down Voldemort and saved the world launched a massacre on Hogwarts."  
  
"Life's funny like that," I answered coolly, despite the fact I had no idea what he was talking about. Who the hell is Voldemort? I wondered. "Now, if you excuse me, I haven't finished dinner." I winked at him. "Maybe you'd like to join in?" Before he could answer, I left him behind, and met up with My Girl.  
  
* * *  
  
"What fun!" Draco commented as we returned to our flat. "All those defenseless little children. Easy- although I'd rather have a good brawl."  
  
"Like having your ass kicked, do you?" I muttered. Ginny clung to her boy tightly, running her hands through his fine blond hair.  
  
"Time for bed, Draco?" she whispered to him, giggling. He nodded excitedly and they both hurried off to their bedroom. Hermione and I went to our room.  
  
"Did you have fun, Princess?"  
  
She nodded, almost asleep already. "Lots of fun with my Prince. Lots of blood for the Princess. Drip, drip, drip." A moment later her eyes closed and she was asleep. I kissed her forehead and laid down on my pillow.  
  
Not a moment later was I abruptly awoken, pushed out of bed and onto the floor. "Hey-" I looked up, and there stood one of the First's minions, dressed in the same black silk robes.  
  
"The First summons you," the vampire decreed.  
  
"Figure he would," I said, sounding very nonchalant. I began to pull on my shirt.  
  
"He is angry."  
  
"Not that hard to anger him, it seems." I finished my shirt buttons. "All right, then. Let's go."  
  
And we left. 


	7. Killer

I entered in the First's library, but he wasn't there. Patiently I stepped over to the blank wall that was opposite the fireplace. The wall, which was at least three stories high, was filled with framed newspaper articles from both wizard and Muggle publications. My eyes brushed the headlines: "Woman Found Dead in Apartment, Suspected Neck Rupture"; "Vampire Attack; One Dead, Four Wounded"; and the newest one, which was placed in an effulgent frame in the center of the wall, "Hogwarts Massacre, Half of School Population Dead or Wounded."  
  
"That one's my favorite," a voice said piercingly. The glass frame held only my misty reflection; I knew who stood behind me. I turned around. "You've made quite a name for yourself, Harry Potter. Eager to prove yourself, aren't you?"  
  
"I'm an overachiever," I replied casually. The First looked as if he was going to laugh and decided against it. Instead, I found my back to the wall and his hand at my throat.  
  
"You stupid little boy," he began calmly, as if we were discussing the weather. "I told you not to disobey me. I told you not to attract attention to our kind."  
  
I didn't fight his tight grip on my windpipe; wasn't like I needed the air. "Hate to inform you, but I don't play by your rules," I informed the First. "We're ten times more powerful than any Muggle, twice as powerful as a wizard- and we hide in the shadows? We can kill anything that stands in our way."  
  
The First let go of me abruptly, his black eyes intense. "Is that a threat?"  
  
"Maybe." I waved my hand towards the wall; the glass in every frame shattered. My right lip curled into a smile. "What would you do about it?"  
  
"Kill you," answered the ancient vampire, walking over to the fireplace. Above the mantle were two swords. They leaped from their position on the wall to his hands, and the First tossed me one easily. "I cannot stand for another trying to undermine my authority, Potter. One of must die today-" he smiled "- and I certainly don't plan it to be me."  
  
For a moment, I wasn't sure how to respond. "Do I have a choice in the matter?" I was answered the moment the First lunged at me. I unsheathed the blade and parried his blow. He struck his sword down and in; I hindered it. For another moment we paced each other, looking for a weakness. To my alarm, I could not find the First's.  
  
Again the First whipped his saber towards my torso, which I clumsily blocked; he nearly cut my heart out of my chest. That would've killed me for sure.  
  
Stepping forward, I gripped my weapon tighter and aimed for the First's head. The second my sword hit his neck he disappeared.  
  
~Think you're clever, Harry? ~ he inquired, speaking from somewhere I couldn't see.  
  
"Very," I told him through gritted teeth. "Get down here and fight!" Something sharp hit the back of my head, knocking me to my knees.  
  
"You think you're so powerful," the First commented, appearing before me. "You killed nearly everyone at Hogwarts that makes you so great. Power comes with age, Potter. One day you will learn that."  
  
The back of my head was bleeding; from my neck, ribbons of red streamed down my chest, soaking into my shirt. Black spots appeared in my vision. A wave of dizziness came over me. "Maybe not," I said heavily. Reaching out with my mind, I pushed the First into the wall, hard enough that dust showered down from the corners.  
  
With much effort I pulled myself back up, trying to steady myself. The First was trying to get back up again. "Even injured, you are strong," the First told me, trying his best not to look surprised.  
  
"I know." My eyes locked on the blaze in the hearth. Mentally I pulled a handful of flame from the fire. "Stronger than you?"  
  
He paused. "Almost."  
  
I snorted. "Not good enough." The blaze collected into a ball and I hurled it him; his dry vampire skin immediately caught, and he quickly burned away to a pile of ash. Then I collapsed.  
  
* * *  
  
A taste filled my mouth; it was sweet and hot. It refreshed me, chasing away the weakness that filled my body. I opened my eyes; a child squirmed, his eyes filled with fresh panic.  
  
"Drink, Master," ordered the vampire who kept the child from squirming away. "He will save you." Closing my eyes again, I drank until there was no more. I heard a voice, the only person I cared about. "Harry!"  
  
Lips touched mine, and I opened my eyes. Hermione pulled away from me, stroking my face. "You're safe," she sighed, her eyes red at the corners with collected blood-tears. "I thought you'd been killed."  
  
"Too bad," another commented. Draco and Ginny appeared at my side, a satisfied smile covering the git's pasty mug.  
  
I sat up in bed, and pulled Hermione towards me. "I'm safe, Princess," I told her. "You're here, and it'll be all right." I smiled. "I killed him, Hermione. First's dead." It occurred to me that I was not in my room. The room I sat in now was darker, more ornate, like a king's chambers. The First's room, I assumed.  
  
"You have killed the First, Harry Potter," one of the several vampires who crowded me said. "You are the strongest vampire to live." The velvet-clad group bowed before me. "We dedicate ourselves to you. You are our leader."  
  
Draco turned whiter than he already was. I raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"  
  
"You kill the First, you assume his position."  
  
"This is what leads you to the end, Harry!" the old woman had said. She was the seer with the dreamy expression who bored me to tears. "I die, then the First. You must stop this before-" Then Hermione and I killed her. Not the best decision in retrospect.  
  
"Do you assume the title, Harry Potter?" The word title appealed to me. People with titles had power; something I'd wanted for a long time. Finally, the novice works his way up to power.  
  
"I'll take it," I replied easily. I looped my arm tightly around Hermione. "See, love? Now you're a real Princess." She grinned.  
  
*** A/N: Short, yeah. But the best is coming soon, I promise you that! More Draco/Ginny, I promise. If you hate my D/G lack, go read my BFF's Evil Slytherin Child's story, A Walk on the Wild Side. Eighth chapter up soon! 


	8. The Second

A/N: It's been forever since I've updated. I hope you're still reading! Uber-long chapter, just for your patience. P.S. I love the reviews! You all are so sweet! Keep 'em coming! Recommend this to your friends! I want to share the evil of Harry Potter to the world! Yeah, after I'm done writing this, I have an appointment with my shrink.  
  
* * *  
  
There's a rhyme that little children like to sing. "First is the worst, second is the best." Those children are very bright; Second IS the best.  
  
The other vampires started calling me the Second. I wasn't fond of the title; it made me sound as if I came in second place. But that was the only downside to being the most powerful vampire in the world.  
  
Hermione and I moved into the First's mansion. Draco and Ginny moved in with us also, and kept a whole wing to themselves. We fed well every night, and slept during the day. There was no one we couldn't kill; I abolished all the First's rules.  
  
Other vampires weren't so happy, mostly the older ones. I told them clearly, if they had a problem, they should confront me directly. So there were no problems.  
  
Except for the one with Draco. The little bugger tried to upstage me in every way. He tried to be more vicious than me; more creative; more cunning; more romantic.  
  
"Harry," Draco whispered to me one night, as we were looking for a kill. "Suppose-something should happen to you. Do you think-"  
  
"Why," I began icily, " do you think something will something happen to me?" The two of us were walking along in the wizard district of Paris. It was just like England, but the people spoke another language, and their blood was tainted with fruity wines. We waited for My Girl and Ginny to return from finding a treat of their own.  
  
"Nothing will," Draco added quickly, turning with me down an alley. "But just in case- it'd probably be best to name a successor to your throne."  
  
I eyed the other vampire. He wringed his hands; his eyes darted around, never really resting on one object. "Like who?"  
  
He bowed his head, trying to look humble. "I was thinking along the lines of me, perhaps," he said.  
  
"Tell you what." I smiled easily, trying to be friendly. "If 'something' should happen to me, Hermione will take my place. Then you. Alright?"  
  
He frowned slightly. "Alright."  
  
Two nippy hands wove their way up my back, looping around my neck. "Did you have fun, Princess?" I asked the owner of the hands.  
  
Hermione giggled as she let go of me, moving to my side. "I met a little child. I bit into him and saw the stars." She rested her head on my shoulder. "Isn't that right, Little Red Pretty?"  
  
"Yes, Mum," Ginny agreed, appearing at Draco's side, one of her hands creeping up his chest, the other down his leg. "Anything good, Draco?"  
  
"Nothing, luv," he answered, cradling her cheek in his hand. "But between you and me, I'm sure we can find something."  
  
There he went again, trying to out-romanticize me! "Come on, Princess," I said to Hermione. "Let's go find ourselves a morsel."  
  
* * *  
  
Before we went back to La Infierno, we decided to stop back in London. Diagon Alley didn't empty until late, and Draco was being the bastard he always was, forcing us to stop by.  
  
"She's pretty," Hermione whispered, walking with me down the road. Her arm was locked tightly with mine, her eyes focused on a twenty- something blonde. "Is she prettier than me?"  
  
"Of course not," I answered honestly.  
  
My Girl squinted at the woman again. "She's getting married, to a doctor. And she's going to have a baby," she informed me. "She told the daddy yet." Hermione's expression softened; her face became unreadable.  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
"Where've Draco and Ginny gone?" My Girl spun around, looking for them. "Can't see them." Now she was distressed; she shivered in the cool night air, despite the fact she could not actually feel the cold. I took off my cloak and laid it on her shoulders.  
  
"We'll find them," I promised, taking her fluttering hands. With a thought, we appeared at their sides. We were in a dark, dimly lit alley. A swarm of wizards, dressed in royal blue robes, were attacking Draco and Ginny. I smiled grimly, watching them use their own meager powers against the wizards.  
  
"Help them, Harry," Hermione begged me. I turned to her, prepared to argue about how under no circumstance would I save Draco, but she looked too forlorn for me to say no.  
  
Sending out a burst of power, the six or so wizards were blown back from Ginny and Draco. The vampires gave us a quick smile- and fled just as quickly. The wizards didn't seem to be harmed by being thrown at all.  
  
~Thanks for the help, Harry~, I heard ring through my head. ~I'll remember you fondly. ~  
  
~Draco, you bastard! You sold me out! ~  
  
~You would have done the same. ~  
  
He was right. That still didn't mean I wasn't going to give him a chest full of splinters.  
  
A wizard pointed his wand at Hermione, but quickly dropped it when it suddenly caught flame. She smiled at the burning piece of wood and returned her eyes to the man. His body stiffened, and he didn't fight when My Girl snapped his neck.  
  
Another man came up to me, brandishing his wand and muttering something. Ropes uncoiled from the end around my wrists, but they melted away like snow in early spring. Before I could retaliate, the wizard said another curse, "*Afaimasso*."  
  
My vision became clouded, and I began to smell something horrible that burned my unused nose and lungs. Garlic, I realized quickly. I reached out with my mind, trying to sense Hermione, but my power was snuffed out like a flame. Everything around me sank into black.  
  
* * *  
  
~Harry? ~ I awoke with a start. Hermione's voice broke through the blackness in my mind.  
  
~Where are you, Princess? ~ I asked.  
  
~Alone~, she answered. ~It's so dark here. ~  
  
I opened my eyes, and found that a thin strip of cloth covered them. Wherever I was, my hands were bound behind the chair I sat on, and my head ached furiously.  
  
I tried to teleport, but I was too weak. How long have I been unconscious? I wondered.  
  
"Three days," answered a man. I felt a pair of hands on the back of my head, untying my blindfold. Unfortunately, I knew the man.  
  
"Hello, Severus," I greeted him with false cheeriness. "Long time, no see."  
  
He came from behind me into my line of vision. "Too long," he added in the same sarcastic tone.  
  
"Where's Hermione?"  
  
"In a room identical to this." Snape waved his hand around, motioning to the door less, windowless room made of gray stone. "She is with another wizard."  
  
"Bring me to her." Snape didn't answer me; he turned to the hovering serving plate in the air, preparing something behind his back I couldn't see. "Now, damn you! I'm the Second-"  
  
He turned around swiftly. "It seems that you have lost your position in La Infierno," he told me. The vampire almost smiled when he saw my shock. "The older vampires have pledged their allegiance to Draco-or shall I say, the Third."  
  
A terrible burning feeling of anger grew in my stomach, until I realized it wasn't just anger, but pain from not feeding for days. Snape turned back to the plate and carried a glass over to me, complete with straw.  
  
This is pathetic, I thought as he stuck the straw in my mouth. It was blood; not human blood, granted, but at least it was something. The burning in my abdomen ceased, and my head cleared.  
  
Snape took the glass from me and went back behind me. "What are going to do with us?" I demanded to know.  
  
"Return your memories," he explained as he slipped and tied dark cloth over my eyes. "Give you the chance to seek redemption for the crimes you have committed."  
  
I didn't have an answer to that; right now I was powerless. I sure as hell didn't want my memory back, and I didn't want Hermione to have hers. Throwing my power out to her, I called ~Are you all right?~  
  
~They fed me, ~ she answered as I heard Snape leave the room. ~Blood of pigs. It doesn't taste as good as when we go hunting. ~ She paused. ~I want to go home. ~  
  
~Soon, ~ I promised. ~Soon we'll be home. ~  
  
* * *  
  
Four mind-numbing hours passed before I had another visitor. I extended my weak powers, and found the presence was someone vaguely familiar, but I had no name or face.  
  
"Harry?" Again I recognized the voice, but had nowhere to put it.  
  
Another presence entered the room, this one filled with magical energy that made my head spin. "He will not recognize you," the other person answered, his voice filled with aged wisdom. "Once a vampire is sired, their memory is lost forever. You saw that with Hermione."  
  
"Who are you?" I asked.  
  
"My name is Albus Dumbledore," the elderly man told me. "My companion's name is Ronald Weasley."  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"The Minister of Magic has realized that your band of vampires have caused many innocent deaths, and has asked that you and your consort were apprehended."  
  
"You think these chains can keep me here long?" I inquired, trying to grin. "I'm more powerful than any wizard."  
  
"Your power's in your eyes," I heard Ronald say. "With the blindfold, you can't do anything."  
  
It suddenly occurred to me who Ronald Weasley was. "You're Redboy," I said, feeling proud of myself for figuring it out. "You were friends with Hermione."  
  
"Professor, could I talk to Harry alone?" I heard a click, like a door being unlocked, and Ronald spoke again. "You bastard."  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
"You killed Hermione. Professor Dumbledore told me so."  
  
"I did," I answered. "So?"  
  
There was a clattering sound; Ronald was losing his patience with me. "I saw her, Harry. She's not herself anymore. She talks about hunting and killing. She's completely insane, wittering about blood, and stars, and her Red Prince, and Little Red Pretty-"  
  
"Ginny," I said quietly, thinking to myself. Did she know what Draco was up to? Did she allow her sire to be captured?  
  
There was a dead silence. "What did you say?" asked Ronald quietly.  
  
"Ginny. You knew her?"  
  
The room suddenly felt very hot; tension and restrained fury were building. "She's my sister."  
  
"What a small world! I killed her, me and Hermione." Now he was very angry; I heard his breathing become shallower. "She's a ferocious little thing. Kills everything in sight-"  
  
"Shut up," Ronald ordered me. Oh, I thought. He sounds so upset. Poor boy.  
  
"She's not a torturer- that's Hermione and my specialty-, she'd rather just go for the kill. Did you read the article in the Daily Prophet about the three teenagers killed two weeks ago? That was all her."  
  
"Shut up, shut up!" A pair of hands pushed me over, knocking me to the floor. My head slammed into the concrete, and began to throb. I heard Ronald took in a deep breath. "You aren't Harry," he stated calmly. "You're- you're a vampire. Harry wouldn't torture Hermione or kill my sister."  
  
I felt confused. Once again, the pre-vampire Harry was mentioned. As strange as it sounds, it would be nice to meet him, see what he was like. I'd probably kill him, though; he would probably be dreadfully boring.  
  
There were footsteps, and I felt Ronald push me back into a sitting position. "When you and Hermione get your memories back it'll- it'll be OK. Like before." There was a clicking sound, and he was gone.  
  
* * *  
  
For five days, I was locked in that room. I had no visitors; I was fed nothing. With my powers so weak, I couldn't even speak with Hermione, although she was most likely going through the same thing. Mostly I slept.  
  
The faint clicking sound awoke me. The next thing I knew, there was something painful in my arm. "Stop that!" I called out hoarsely.  
  
"For the spell," explained an unfamiliar voice. "We need your blood."  
  
So they were ready. I was powerless to stop them from bringing back my memory. Who knows what I did during my life?  
  
Suddenly a horrible thought struck me: Hermione would remember her turning. While Vampire Hermione wouldn't mind, the bookish schoolgirl would. She might not love me anymore.  
  
"You can't have him," I heard a throaty female say. My skin tingled with the use of vampiric power, and I heard something crash into the wall.  
  
The cloth was pulled from my eyes; they stung from the dim light in the room. A pale face, with onyx-black eyes and ruby-red lips, entered my vision.  
  
"Thekla?" I asked raggedly. She nodded and undid my binds. "How did you-?"  
  
"I just knew," she told me, looping her arm my shoulder to help me stand. "Come, Harry." We teleported away.  
  
* * *  
  
The vampiress set me down on a soft chair. She pushed a glass into my hands. "Drink," she ordered. I obliged; it was human blood. The wound on my bleeding arm slowed and shut; the needle-like sensation in my head ended; strength flowed within every part of me.  
  
"I'm glad we got you out of there," Thekla said, mostly to herself. She stood next to me, wiping away blood from my arm. I stared at her; I hadn't seen her since I turned Hermione. So much had happened since then.  
  
"Why?" She looked up when I asked my question. "Why did you rescue me?"  
  
Thekla looked as if I asked her something like why vampires drink blood. "I am your sire. I am obligated to."  
  
I laughed; if the sire-childe relationship was that simple, Draco would never of dared hurting Ginny's sire's and Hermione's sire. That reminded me- "Hermione," I blurted out.  
  
"Harry?" Her ethereal voice came from the hallway outside the room I sat in. Getting up from my chair, I went into the hall, peering into each room. Hermione lay comfortably on a bed, her hands in the air, drawing invisible pictures on the ceiling.  
  
"Hermione," I said, kneeling beside the bed. She lowered her hands and turned her head towards me.  
  
"Harry," she began breathily. "There was pigs' blood, and a vampire- wizard, and the red-haired boy, and so much talking, and I saw pictures in my head of old things-" She shook violently. Hermione had reached her breaking point.  
  
"Shh, Princess," I said quietly, crawling up beside her on the bed. She didn't speak. I began to hum softly, caressing her with my hands. Her shakes stopped. "Nothing bad is going to happen in Thekla's house-"  
  
I stopped abruptly, looking around the bedroom. I had lived in Thekla's home for two months before siring Hermione. Wherever we were, this wasn't her house.  
  
Storming off the bed, I tossed open the curtains, squinting in the bright sunlight. "Make it stop!" I heard Hermione cry. This wasn't La Infierno, or even London; it was a small town somewhere in England I'd never been before, lined with small houses and gardens.  
  
"I lied to you, Harry," Thekla said, unexpectedly appearing at my side. "I said I changed you because the First willed it." She waved her hands, and the drapes closed.  
  
"The First didn't want me to be turned?" Suddenly I wasn't sure what to think.  
  
"The First requested it, but I did not do it for his own good. I did it for my master."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Lord Voldemort."  
  
* * *  
  
They gave Hermione a new dress robe; crimson silk that accented her curves and was edged in soft lace. I was given a black silk robe. Voldemort apparently cares about what people wear in his presence.  
  
Thekla escorted us through the manor to his chambers. His room was dark, the only light coming from torches on the wall. The room reminded of the First's quarters; dim, elegant, majestic. "My Lord," she said quietly, her eyes on her feet. "Harry and Hermione."  
  
In the corner of the room, where there was no light, I heard a short, barking laugh. "You shall be rewarded, Thekla." A smile crossed the vampiress's face. "Leave us." She disappeared. There were the sounds of stirring, and of a snake's quiet hiss. A face emerged from the shadows. His skin was white as snow, his eyes snakelike red slits; the grin on his face did not suit him all.  
  
"Harry Potter," he greeted me. "I have desperately wanted to meet you. I have heard about your exploits. I am impressed."  
  
"It's nothing," I told the man.  
  
"So modest," he commented, his eyes then turning to Hermione. "This is your mate?" She looked up Voldemort with inquisitive eyes.  
  
"She is," I answered, now annoyed at the way he looked at Hermione. "What do you want with us?"  
  
The Dark Lord was silent. "You have been a vampire for about a year now. Yet you killed the First and launched a massacre on Hogwarts."  
  
"I like to have my fun."  
  
"You and Hermione are strong. I will need you."  
  
"For what?" I inquired.  
  
He smiled, and went to the window, pulling back the curtains. Hermione and I backed away from the light. "For when their world ends, and ours begins." 


	9. Memories

A/N: HI! Thank you for the reviews! Trying to make this chapter interesting, now that I've seen "Chamber of Secrets". Wanna make J.K. proud!  
  
Firebolt9000- I deleted "Resurrection" because, to be honest, I just didn't want to write the story. I didn't care anymore. That's probably going to happen to "The Dark Days of Harry Potter", too. I haven't updated in two months, because I love this story so much more!  
  
Coolone007- Hermione got the spell. However, she will not kill Harry (yet- who knows what will happen). Why? Because she's a kook. She's insane and evil, so Harry's torture of her, in her mind, was equal to a marriage proposal. She thinks that the old Hermione is a figment of her imagination. (Again- INSANE!) Note about the spell: it doesn't require ingestion to work. That means-  
  
On with the story!  
  
* * *  
  
Voldemort was silent as he looked out upon the small town that surrounded his villa. "Will you join me, Harry Potter?"  
  
I thought about it for a moment. Taking over the world- sounds like fun- I like fun. "All right," I agreed quickly.  
  
The Dark Lord turned around, smiling. "I have a task for you. Complete it, to prove your worth."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Regain your throne from the Third."  
  
I smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."  
  
* * *  
  
"I hate Happy Hour," I muttered as Hermione and I materialized on the busy streets of La Infierno. It was midnight, generally the feeding hour for most vampires. "Come on, Princess. Let's go pay the Third a visit."  
  
The crowds that filled the street became hushed as My Girl and I strolled down them. "The Second," someone whispered. "I heard he was captured."  
  
"I thought he was dead."  
  
"He already is dead, fool."  
  
I smiled wryly and passed through the parting crowd. "Does anyone know where the Third is?" Several gaping vampires pointed to the black citadel sitting at the end of the main road. "Thank you." Hermione and I manifested in the palace's master bedroom.  
  
Draco and Ginny were sleeping in our bedroom. I rolled my eyes; Draco becomes the ruler of the vampire world, and what does he do? He sleeps. What an incredibly boring vampire.  
  
"Morning, sunshine," I said sarcastically. Draco's eyelids fluttered, and he rolled over. He turned whiter than death.  
  
"Harry," he said, gawking in wonder at Hermione and me. "You're supposed to be dead."  
  
"And you were supposed to be loyal to me. Things don't always turn out like we plan them."  
  
Hermione smirked, running her hands down my chest. "Daddy's home, and somebody's in trouble," she said seductively. She brought her lips to my right ear. "I hope it's me." I beamed at her.  
  
"Ginny," Draco said quickly, nudging the vampiress. The red-haired girl awoke. "Go with Hermione to the sitting room."  
  
"Wha-? How-?" The vampiress blinked in confusion.  
  
"Just get out!" he ordered. Looking hurt, Ginny disappeared to another part of the house, Hermione following. "How did you do it?" hissed Draco as he got out of bed, watching me as if I were a figment of his imagination. "How did you escape?"  
  
"It's an amusing story," I began, smiling as he began to shake in apprehension. "My sire rescued Hermione and I, and brought us to HER master. Lord Voldemort."  
  
"The Dark Lord," he whispered, as if he didn't believe me.  
  
"Nice fellow, the Dark Lord is. We're going to take over the world. First, though, I have to kill you."  
  
Draco swallowed. "You may be back, but- but the throne is mine! I have followers, powerful followers!"  
  
"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" Mentally I threw him into the wall, knocking down paintings. Dust fell in gray clouds from the ceiling. "You don't any power of your own, so you ally with powerful people. Like me." The vampire stood, but was thrust again into the wall. "Like the bloody Ministry of Magic! You betrayed me!"  
  
"Forgive me," he begged.  
  
"I warned you, Draco. Don't cross me."  
  
"I won't!" he swore, clutching his head. "I swear, give me another chance." He stood, cradling his head in his hands.  
  
There was a moment of silence as I pretended to consider forgiving him. "Hmm," I began. An eager look of hope filled his scrawny face. "No." Draco soared through the air to his armchair. From my pocket I pulled a violet orb and tossed it at Draco; there was a snapping sound, and robes bound him to the chair.  
  
"Voldemort's a generous man," I said lazily as I walked across the room towards him. "He gave Hermione and me clothing. He gave her jewels. And me? I got toys." From my cloak pocket I pulled a velvet box. Draco winced as I revealed what was inside: a dozen pointed surgical instruments. "He forgot to sharpen the blades, though. Too bad. I guess I'll just have to press really hard." I grasped one of the scalpels and pressed it to his face, where blood trickled out.  
  
With a delicate finger, I wiped the blood away and licked my digit clean. "Fruity," I commented. "You taste like the French and their wines." Swiftly I slit his other cheek. Draco bit his lip in pain.  
  
"You're just as insane as Hermione," he told me. "You're just not as obvious about it."  
  
"Thank you." I tore his sleeves off, and slashed his wrists. "Vampiric power lies in the heart," I informed him, unbuttoning his nightshirt. "You can cut out any other organ in a vampire, and they'll still be alive. But not the heart."  
  
"You're not-" Draco started to say, his speech slightly slurred. Blood soaked into his sitting chair.  
  
"I am." With the scalpel, I ripped into his chest, and commenced digging through the layers of skin and muscle covering his circulatory pump.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Draco cried out.  
  
"You deserve it," I told him in an obvious tone, digging into his dead muscle. Draco shouted out wordlessly. "Just call me Karma."  
  
Of course, karma always gets you back in the end. At that moment, karma decided I was its next victim.  
  
Abruptly I dropped the knife, clutching the streaky scar gashed onto my forehead. "What-"  
  
There were two faces, both warm and open. My mother and father. Suddenly there was shrill laughing, and an ear-shattering scream. I'd heard this before, but now there were pictures to go along the voices.  
  
My face was buried into a thick, wooly sweater. All I could see was navy blue. The smell of my mother's perfume filled my small nose.  
  
"Not Harry! Have mercy! Have mercy-" I heard my mother cry. She screamed as I heard Voldemort laughing shrilly. The two of us fell to the ground as the life was pulled from her.  
  
Two hands pulled me from my mother's breast and sat me down on the carpet. Two shiny black shoes filled my vision. "Two down, one to go." The man cried out a word foreign to my infant self. There was nothing but bright green light, and a horrible pain on my head. I began to sob, just as Voldemort cried out in shock, and then there was darkness.  
  
Then I saw the Dursleys. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley. All the memories came back, about how much they hated me, how embarrassed they were at my existence. I remembered having to wear hand-me-downs, never having any treats, or birthdays, or any friends.  
  
But then I saw Hagrid, the night he gave me my letter from Hogwarts. I saw Diagon Alley for the first time. The first time I met Draco- I knew I never liked him, even before I died. I saw Ronald-Ron for the first time on the train. He didn't have any friends either. Then I saw Hermione for the first time. I couldn't believe I never noticed her beauty even then. The three of us- we'd been inseperable.  
  
More memories came; playing Quidditch, fighting trolls, battling Voldemort and Quirrell, escaping from the Dursleys, meeting Ginny for the first time, dueling with Malfoy, speaking Parseltongue, seeing Tom Riddle, Lupin, Sirius, the dementors, Pettigrew. The Triwizard Tournament. Voldemort's resurrection. It all flooded back.  
  
I passed out.  
  
* * *  
  
"Harry?" a comforting voice asked me. I smiled; it was Hermione. Sweet Hermione-  
  
Who I drove insane and killed out of deranged love!  
  
I sat up in bed. "Shh, Harry," she told me. "You're ill."  
  
There was piercing sobs from the other room. "Whose that?"  
  
"Little Red Pretty," Hermione explained. She smiled. "You slayed her dragon. Bad Harry."  
  
"Draco's dead?" I asked. My Girl nodded, putting her hand on my head.  
  
"Almost," she told me. "Somebody chopped his heart into little pieces." She beamed at me, putting her hands on my chest. The touch would've been comforting once, but now her hands were icy-cold spiders.  
  
"You feel hot, Harry," Hermione told me, looking concerned. "You need to hunt."  
  
Hunting. "Killing innocent people" is what it should be called. Like the dozens- hundreds I killed. I'd killed so many, and done it all with a happy grin and chuckle.  
  
"I have to go," I said. Hermione looked alarmed as I stood.  
  
"Don't leave," she ordered. "The Dark Lord wouldn't like it."  
  
It came one blow after another. I had joined Voldemort! The man who killed my parents! And I did it because it sounded like fun and I like fun!  
  
"Hermione," I began. Her chocolate eyes locked on me. Even in death, she was beautiful. "Something happened to me. I- I know who I am."  
  
"You're Harry."  
  
"Yes, but there's more to that. Not just Harry. I'm the Boy Who Lived."  
  
"But you're dead." It was that simple; I was the Boy Who Lived. Now I'm the Boy Who Died. That was far too ironic.  
  
"Hermione, I need to leave for a few days. I'll be back soon, I- I promise."  
  
"But Harry-" I cut her off with a swift kiss, savoring her. Her lips were tinged with blood, I noticed now; I supposed that the taste was so familiar, I could barely sense it.  
  
"Soon," I told her.  
  
She nodded. "Soon."  
  
Just as the sun began to rise, I disappeared.  
  
* * *  
  
"Professor?" Albus Dumbledore looked up from his papers at me as I appeared in his chambers. "Professor-"  
  
He nodded to me. "Your memory has returned."  
  
"Yes," I said quietly. "Everything has come back. You have to help me, Professor Dumbledore. Please." 


	10. Seeking Redemption

Although he did not show it, Dumbledore must have been caught off- guard by my sudden return. He let me sleep in my private chambers while he had "a conference with my advisors," as he put it. I slept on and off for hours; the faces of all those I had killed kept haunting my mind.  
  
I sat straight up when I heard the door creak open. Snape stood in the doorway, holding a glass of red liquid. With obvious discomfort he walked towards me, and handed me the glass. "It's not human," he told me as I took a sniff. "It's-"  
  
"Pig," I cut him off. He eyed me oddly. "That's all I got the last time I was here. I recognize the smell." Quickly I emptied the glass. I felt much of physical pain leave me; however, no amount of blood could heal my conscience.  
  
"You tried to stop me from killing Hermione," I said as if I had just learned this for the first time. "And you tried to stop her from killing others." He nodded. "I wish I had listened."  
  
To my surprise, Snape shook his head vigorously. "My attempts were useless. Vampires retain their mortal soul, but they are- infected, with a powerful, almost uncontrollable need to hunt and kill. That is why their memories are lost; most vampires would kill themselves if they hunted with their morals intact."  
  
"How did you get your memory?"  
  
"I never lost it," he explained, looking at his hands while he spoke. "My mother was killed by a vampire during her pregnancy. I was born prematurely, but stronger than any mortal child. I age like mortals, and retain my wizarding powers. However, I feel the need to kill as strongly as you do." Snape looked up at me. "Killing is in your nature."  
  
"It still doesn't make up for anything," I replied bitterly, squeezing the glass in my hand. "I killed so many people. I- I can't describe how horrible I am."  
  
"You cannot judge yourself on a human level," Snape told me. "Humans- at least, not most- do not feel an urge to kill. Vampires do. We are entirely different creatures and therefore cannot base our misdeeds on human standards."  
  
"There must be something I can do," I murmured.  
  
"You can help others." I looked up at the older vampire, surprised. "Your strength and abilities are great. You can put them to use. The vampire population has nearly doubled since you killed the First. Your powers are needed."  
  
A wry thought entered my mind. "The only time you're civil to me is after I've killed hundreds of people," I remarked.  
  
Snape snorted. "I have not missed the irony, Potter," he said in a tone I was much more familiar with. He held out his hand, which I placed the glass in. The vampire stood to leave, just as a thought crossed my mind.  
  
"Snape," I began, not bothering with titles. He turned to me. "Do you think you could help me with something. There's- there's someone I want to talk to."  
  
* * *  
  
Around eight o'clock, there was a knock at the door. "Come in," I called, not moving from the bed. Ron entered the room, looking at me with loathing.  
  
"Ron," I said, sitting up straighter. "You- you look older." He was taller than I remembered, and leaner.  
  
"You don't," he replied sharply. I suddenly realized something; I had stopped growing the day I died. I was going to be fifteen forever. I'd never grow older.  
  
"Ron," I began, not knowing exactly what to say, "I want to talk to you."  
  
"So talk," my old friend answered, sitting down in a chair across from the bed. His expression couldn't be read.  
  
"I just wanted to tell that I'm sorry. I know that sounds weak," I added quickly when he narrowed his eyes at me, "but I'm sorry."  
  
"How can you even say that!" he shouted at me. "You drove Hermione insane and you killed her. You killed my baby sister! You killed Draco- I'm not too upset about that, but still! Then you get all your vamp friends and kill half the students here! And you think you can just say you're sorry and it'll be all better?"  
  
"No, I don't," I shot back, starting to feel defensive. "You don't understand. That wasn't me-"  
  
"Yes it was! We've studied vampires in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Vampires lose their memories, not their souls. Just because you knew the people you killed doesn't mean you're excused for everything you've done." Ron stood up. "I will never forgive you, Harry. Never." He slammed the door as he left the room.  
  
* * *  
  
I didn't sleep that night. My mind was too busy, brimming with people and places. So much had happened in my life, and I felt like I missed it, in a way.  
  
It was as if there were two Harrys; the Boy Who Lived, and the Boy Who Died. The Boy Who Died was noble and true. He faced down Voldemort, and killed a basilisk, and saved the wizarding world. The Boy Who Died joined Voldemort, killed innocent wizard students, and massacred the very people he saved.  
  
Every inch of me was filled with guilt, but not over the people I killed. No, this guilt came from another source.  
  
I felt guilty over the fact I DIDN'T feel guilt over the innocent deaths.  
  
Vampires are hunters; they feel an urge to hunt and kill. So I was simply doing what I was meant to do, correct? Hunt and kill? Like Snape said, vampires can't be judged on a human level. So am I evil, then? No; I was doing what felt natural.  
  
It sounds like a load of shit, but to the confused mind, it all makes sense.  
  
So now what happens? I go back to La Infierno and kill? No. While I didn't feel guilt over the past, I knew killing with my conscience intact wouldn't work.  
  
Now it was time to put my abilities, and my need to kill to use.  
  
* * *  
  
Snape started training me, honing my powers. He told me he'd never met such a young, powerful vampire. It only took a few days for me to master it.  
  
He'd also gotten me off human blood. At first not drinking human blood nearly crippled me, but I became used to it. Still, I had to be separated from the students, out of fear I might attack them.  
  
Ron still wouldn't talk to me.  
  
News came from the vampire world: Draco had healed, almost completely. However, Hermione was the Fourth. She apparently refused to give up the throne, in case I returned. I wanted to go see her, to tell her I was alive and I still loved her, but Snape refused to let me leave the castle.  
  
After three weeks of training, I was allowed to leave Hogwarts, and go with Snape and several other wizards from the Ministry of Magic on a vampire hunt. Our first stop was Diagon Alley.  
  
* * *  
  
The sky was just beginning to darken when we set out upon the district. I was paired up with another wizard named Iris Atkins, to hunt down the vampires.  
  
"Is that one?" she asked me, not looking up from her newspaper. The two of us sat at a café, watching the people pass by. She nodded towards a pallid, black-haired female. I glanced over at the girl, but I sensed no vampiric aura.  
  
"No," I murmured, sipping the flask of pig blood I kept in my cloak. While I still received the same energy and power from animal blood, human blood was just much fresher and tastier.  
  
I felt a tingle on the back of my neck. I turned around and saw a blonde man head down an alley with a petite brunette. The male was definitely a vampire.  
  
"Over there," I said to Iris. She nodded, dropping a few Sickles on the table. The two of us headed into the alley.  
  
The vampire had already pierced her neck with his fangs, and had started feeding. "*Expelliarmus*!" cried out Iris, and the vampire was thrown back from the female into the wall. He looked up at us with surprise; it was Draco.  
  
"Stay with her, Potter," Iris ordered. Draco disappeared, and Iris Apparated after him.  
  
I knelt beside the girl. Draco hadn't taken enough blood to kill her, but she was losing it quickly. Her eyes darted frantically around the alley, and her breathing was shallow. She laid her panicked eyes on me.  
  
"It's OK," I told her softly, grabbing her hand. "Don't worry. We'll get someone to heal you." From my pocket I pulled a handkerchief and put it to her neck, to stop the blood loss. I felt the warm blood trickle out of her, through the handkerchief, onto my hands. I hadn't had human blood for weeks.  
  
Her eyes were closing. The girl was as good as dead. My fangs pushed through my gums. No, I told myself. I can't. I can't!  
  
Suddenly I lost control. I bent down beside the girl and drank from her. She cried out, but it was barely a whisper in my ears. The blood was warm and I drank freely.  
  
"Harry!" I pulled away quickly. Standing beside me was Snape. His expression hurt me; he wasn't angry, just- disappointed. He knelt down and checked the female's throat. "She's dead."  
  
"I'm sorry," I said quickly, wiping the blood from my mouth. "I'm sorry-"  
  
"Leave, Harry," Snape said softly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"If the other wizards see what you've done, they'll kill you. Get out of here, and don't come back."  
  
I was surprised. "Where should I go?"  
  
"Anywhere that's not here." I heard footsteps pound on the cobblestones behind me. "Go, Harry."  
  
I nodded and disappeared. There was only one place I could go.  
  
* * *  
  
I appeared near the bookcase in the library. Draco was there, in an old-fashioned wheelchair, drinking a glass of blood. Ginny was on the sofa, napping as the fire roared in the hearth.  
  
Draco looked up at the sudden sound of footsteps and gaped at me. "Harry," he whispered, pushing the wheels of his chair as far back as they would go. "But-"  
  
"Yeah, my memory's back," I cut him off, walking through the library towards the master bedroom. I slammed the doors open.  
  
Hermione was in the wardrobe, slipping to a silk nightgown. She turned around quickly. My Girl's eyes lit up. "Oh, Harry," she sighed, running towards me. "My Prince's back." She pressed her lips to mine, and I wondered how I even thought of leaving her.  
  
"Don't worry, Princess," I told her quietly, stroking her back. "I'm back, and I'm not leaving ever again." 


	11. Be Seeing You Soon

Author's Note: Hi. This is the last chapter. I'd like to give everyone a big author kiss for reading! This has been, by far, the most fun story I've ever written. Evil Harry and insane Hermione has been a joy to write. Thank you so much for the reviews. They make me feel all happy inside! It feels very sad to end this, but I have to, or I'll never be able to start my next story. So thank you, and enjoy the last chapter of "The Boy Who Died."  
  
* * *  
  
I can see you there, waiting. You want to know what becomes of me, how my story ends. Waiting for that happy, sunshine-and-daisies ending? It's not coming. I don't go good again. I kill and I destroy. And it makes me happy.  
  
I was Harry Potter! Champion of all that is good and noble! And now I'm the Hanged Man, the opposite of my former self. I killed Hermione; together we killed Ginny; Ginny killed Draco. Together we killed hundreds, and we did it singing.  
  
I tried the noble Severus Snape route. But I'd killed for far too long to suddenly become a virtuous vampire. You can only deny who you are for so long. After a while, you have to be who you truly are: a killer.  
  
I bet you're disappointed in me. Oh, I shed a sarcastic tear. But I suppose you're tired of my rambling.  
  
After I returned, I never heard from Voldemort again. He apparently had no need for dirty vampires like myself in his plans for world domination. He nearly succeeded- but that's a different story.  
  
I became the Second again. Hermione, Draco, Ginny and I continued to live in the mansion. The best part, of course, was being with my Princess. They say vampires can't love; what fools. Vampires retain their human souls, so of course they can love. Just because one is a hunter doesn't mean one cannot feel compassion. Especially if the compassion is felt towards Hermione, the most radiant, vicious goddess ever to walk this earth.  
  
So together the four of us hunted, and together Hermione and I were lovers. But between my favorite pastimes, I realized something was missing from my life. I had a beautiful lover, and power. That was what I longed for. Now I had it- and it was empty. Power doesn't make you happy; there are more important things.  
  
I had no friends. You couldn't have a conversation with Hermione; she was good at loving and killing, but couldn't sit still for long. I do still regret driving her insane sometimes. Draco was far too afraid of me to keep up a conversation; probably thought I'd cut out his heart if he disagreed with me. And Ginny was too devoted to her poor, wounded Draco to actually have a personality.  
  
So I decided to find myself a best friend. I knew just where to look.  
  
* * *  
  
Hogsmeade. A cute little town. Frequent visiting stop for wizards in England. Especially for the Weasleys twins, who opened their joke shop there several months ago. Now that it was the summer holidays, their younger brother had gotten a job there.  
  
Cloaked in invisibility, I watched Ron lock the cash register. He'd been a good friend to me, I remembered. No one I counted on more than him. So now I'd do him a favor; give him eternal life.  
  
He walked out of the store, walking through the balmy Hogsmeade streets to his brothers' house as the sky darkened. I, cloaked in power, snuck into his mind. ~Ron~, I whispered. The red-haired boy turned around, but found no one. "Did someone- no," he said quickly, turning back around.  
  
~Come meet me in the alley, Ron~, I commanded, stepping between a robe shop and an apothecary. Ron, looking quite baffled, followed my command. Once he reached the alleyway, he looked around curiously. I let go of my power, and became visible.  
  
"You!" Ron called out, looking at me with bitter hatred and cold fear. He backed away from me, into the alley wall.  
  
~Freeze~, I ordered Ron. He froze, and suddenly I remembered the day I was turned, nearly two years ago. Ron's face was most likely identical to mine; part fear, part shock. part effort in trying to move.  
  
"If you relax," I told Ron as my teeth lengthened and my hunger escalated, "it won't hurt." I nipped his neck, losing myself in the taste of his blood. I heard him cry out, but didn't stop to console him. Once again, I was reminded of what I had become.  
  
After what seemed like hours, I pulled away from Ron's neck. "You bastard," I heard Ron mutter. "I'll never kill, never."  
  
I grinned. "Of course you will, you stupid git." With my dagger I slit my wrist and put it in Ron's mouth. He fought defiantly, trying to stop from swallowing the blood, but in the end his head slumped to the ground, and blood covered his mouth.  
  
With ease I picked up his body. By sunrise he'd be awake, with no memory of anything. I never did tell him who he was, or why he looked so similar to my mate's fledgling, Ginny. Ron was as good a hunter as I was, and found a mate in some French witch a year after he was turned. But we remained best friends, until the end.  
  
And that's how it ends. We are vampires. We live forever.  
  
Be seeing you soon. 


End file.
